


The Issue With Hot Chocolate

by CapConspicuous



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 25 Days of Stuckmas, Fluff, Hot Chocolate, IM, M/M, Pining, SO, Stucky - Freeform, christmas stucky, steve and bucky are both into art wowww, stucky fluff, sweet fic honestly, tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 15:30:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8806291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapConspicuous/pseuds/CapConspicuous
Summary: So, let's say, you just really, really love hot chocolate. And the good stuff, not just any old cocoa powder/sugar/dehydrated marshmallow mix. Like, rich chocolate chips melted into a saucepan of milk, slowly and gradually, so even if you were cold, you're warm by the time the hot chocolate is ready.  And you also love topping it with whipped cream and actual marshmallows, and definitely some candy cane bits, for color, and for the sake of Christmas.Let's say, you'd do anything for a good cup of hot chocolate in your hands, steam wafting into your face. The mug emanates the kind of warmth that everyone craves on a snowy day in Brooklyn, when the wind is biting and your lips are always chapped.  Aka.  Steve comes to realizations on Christmas Eve, ft. hot chocolate.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, i am very behind on my 25 Days of Stuckmas Challenge, as this is Day 6/25 and the date of publication is actually 12/10/16? Oops. In my defense, it's 2:14 AM. so...??? it's practically yesterday y'all. Also, I accidentally fell asleep sometime after 12:30 AM and actually just woke up at 2 to finish the HTML? Like? I woke up involuntarily and realized I hadn't finished posting the chapter, laptop deadass still in my lap. ?????  
> Also, yes, I have one more chapter of a fake relationship AU to do, I'm just trying my best to make that chapter the best one, do NOT worry <3  
> Hope you guys like this fic though! I spent way too much time on it ahaha.......
> 
> Kudos. Comments. I love you~~~

So, let's say, you just really, really love hot chocolate. And the good stuff, not just any old cocoa powder/sugar/dehydrated marshmallow mix. Like, rich chocolate chips melted into a saucepan of milk, slowly and gradually, so even if you were cold, you're warm by the time the hot chocolate is ready. And you also love topping it with whipped cream and actual marshmallows, and definitely some candy cane bits, for color, and for the sake of Christmas. 

Let's say, you'd do anything for a good cup of hot chocolate in your hands, steam wafting into your face. The mug emanates the kind of warmth that everyone craves on a snowy day in Brooklyn, when the wind is biting and your lips are always chapped. 

Let's say that over time, you figure out the perfect way to make hot chocolate, and suddenly, everything else is bland and just not-good, generally unsatisfying in the strangest way. You don't hate everything else, but nothing can compare anymore.

And yeah, maybe it sucks that you can't enjoy anything else because you're constantly stuck on that one specific taste of hot chocolate, subtle hints of vanilla, chocolate that might be 2% darker than the regular semi-sweet chips-

Steve might have a problem, he realizes, as he stares too deeply into his cup of hot chocolate that he may or may not have been having an internal monologue about. _This. This might actually be an issue_ , he thinks, almost faintly. 

But, the cup of hot chocolate he's got in his hands isn't what he wants. Sure, objectively, it tastes pretty good but it just doesn't illicit the warmth that Steve half expects to unfurl in his chest.

Nope.

It's hopeless, Steve knows that by now. This last cup was also the last straw- not even the metaphorical camel's back was necessary for Steve to be struck with the revelation that he had an issue. 

An issue exacerbated by the fact that he, Steve Grant Rogers, had just spent his whole Christmas Eve afternoon wandering around practically the whole city, trying to find hot chocolate that would make him feel as good as he remembered it did, trying to prove to himself that no, he was just imagining things.

No, he _didn't_ have over-dependence issues, or a strange case of separation anxiety. 

No, he _could_ still enjoy any hot chocolate he encountered. 

No, he was _not_ in love with Bucky Barnes. 

\---

Steve supposes that he should have seen this coming from miles away, the same way one would notice a plane hurtling towards the earth or a train tearing off its course. But Steve hadn't seen the plane, or the train- and somehow he thinks that even with fair warning, he wouldn't have been able to jump out of the way.

When Steve fell, he fell hard, and there was no way around it. 

But initially, it hadn't been a glaring problem, being Bucky's dorm roommate. If anything, it'd been a lucky break; they did become best friends after all, and it made living together normal. 

_Normal._

But it did, and after college, they still roomed together, which was _also_ normal- tons of people did the same in that Purgatory between graduation and "real adult life" whatever that was. But then one year turned to two, then two to four, and now they're both twenty-seven and they just movied into a new flat a month ago and Steve has an _issue._

 _God_ , he misses Bucky so much- _Jesus._

Steve has to remind himself, yet again, that Bucky's literally only been gone for three days so far. _But, he won't be home for another three_ , he involuntarily reminds himself again. Steve knows how important the Annual Stark Expo is to Bucky, having always wanted to go, _It's such a big fucking deal, Steve, every single big product of the year is featured-_ but Steve can't help feeling desolate all the same. He would have been there with Bucky, but admission to the convention was so limited and so he'd just urged Bucky to go on ahead without him- he wasn't going to hold Bucky back, how could he?

Steve hadn't understood just how lonely he'd be over the last few days without Bucky, especially since it's _Christmastime_ , but here Steve is, sitting alone in an unknown coffee shop. 

He regards the cup of now lukewarm chocolate, guilty for his slight distaste but also tired of searching for something he won't find.

Truth is, Bucky makes the best hot chocolate on this side of the continent and Steve just, really, really needs a cup right now. But Bucky is in Miami, putting that Bachelors in Product Design into good use, while Steve is here, wondering when in hell he developed such an urge to hold onto Bucky and never let go.

Because Steve doesn't want to just throw away the (objectively) perfectly good hot chocolate, he downs it the way one would more appropriately drown their sorrows with liquor. Maybe if he gets sick and tired enough of hot chocolate, he won't crave it so much.

Nah, he'd probably just need to pee. Nice.

Steve meanders his way home then, hands deep in his pockets, smiling at people passing by because it's _Christmas_ , okay, even if he's feeling terribly despondent, it's easy to smile at children that run past him or couples with their hands swinging between them. The displays in the windows, snowflakes and ornaments, gigantic presents and red bows- they make Steve think of the presents he has under their tree at home, waiting for Bucky to come home, only with considerably less anxiety than Steve.

Maybe Steve wishes he could figure out when exactly his feelings for Bucky had bled over from kindredship to this all-consuming dependence. Somewhere in between all these years and seeing Bucky every morning and telling him to sleep when it gets too late, every night, and Steve just- he knows his emotional attachments get messed up like this _all the time._

He also knows that Bucky's probably texted him several times in the last hour, but he actually can't check the messages- yes, dependence and all, Steve is afraid to see Bucky's texts, afraid to feel that intense leap in his chest that makes everything in real life seem less-than what it was in comparison.

This is definitely an issue that Steve has to solve, and fast. The way he sees it, he's got three days to figure out a solution before Bucky comes home and Steve ends up digging his grave a little deeper, decorating his coffin a little nicer, or making his obituary sound a little smoother. Maybe if Steve had figured out this problem earlier (the fact that he's in love with Bucky, dear Christ), he could have dealth with it more easily- but that's the thing, _maybe._

Maybe this, maybe that. Maybe if Steve had never gone to NYU, he would never have met Bucky at all. 

What Steve thinks he's trying to say is, fine. Maybe whatever. But at this point, his main objective to be rid of this terrifying feeling as soon as possible, because he can't deal with it, can't possibly deal with Bucky's face if he ever found out, the pity and the sadness in that familiar face. Even though Bucky's a raging bisexual, Steve's sure he can't feel the same. It's been nearly a nine year friendship now and Steve can't just let that crash and burn. He _can't_.

Steve finds himself in front of their door now, having been somewhat pre-occupied for his whole walk. As far as Steve's been able to ponder, there isn't exactly a fool-proof how-to like How To Fall Out Of Love With Your Best Friend. 

It's fine though, because Steve has three days, and three days is seventy-two hours for Steve to figure this out, and he's pretty good at bullshitting his way through things, not surprisingly. 

Yet, the plan, bullshitted or not, falls through the second Steve opens the door, thoroughly surprised by the overwheming familiar aroma- sweet, like chocolate, the undertone of vanilla extract-

"Buck?" He falters, but no one else would come home and make _fucking hot chocolate_ , no one else has that luggage or leaves it lying right in front of the door, no one else could smile like Bucky, like he missed Steve as much as Steve missed him-

"Merry Christmas!" Bucky's laughing when he hugs Steve hard, Steve has to hug him back- "Surprise!"

"You- You're back early-" there's a breathless laugh now, Steve can't stop it from rushing out, and though his lungs have exhaled, they're full of something that wasn't there just a minute ago- "Why though?" He's not complaining, he's really not- he only wishes he could hold Bucky a little while longer, but Bucky has pulled back by now, eyes still bright with excitement from the expo. 

"They canceled the second half of the convention because the center had to be shut down- something about a gas leak," Bucky shrugs, but Steve can't figure out why he doesn't sound that disappointed until he beams, "Don't worry, Steve, the second half's just rescheduled for Janurary, but at least I'm home."

"Right," Steve has to repress with the soaring feeling before he says something stupid, looking at Bucky in his beanie, looking like a mess and probably jet-lagged. At home. With him. "Is that hot chocolate?"

"You bet it is," Buck tugs him toward the kitchen, "Come on, you can crush the candy canes for me, use that brute strength of yours." 

Steve lets himself be tugged. He wouldn't have it any other way. "So you got home and the first thing you wanted was some hot chocolate?"

"Of course," stirring the milk, Bucky sticks out his tongue at Steve, "Admit it, you want some."

"Never said I didn't," Steve says indulgently. He carefully unwraps two candy canes and places them in a plastic baggie, then promptly decimates them (gently) using a rolling pin. "There you go, Buck."

"So helpful," its Bucky's turn to sound indulgent, and he reaches up to pat Steve's cheek. "Also, did you get the whipped cream when I asked last week-"

"Yes, yes, I did," He shows him the canister, "I do bring a shopping list, you know." Bucky gives him an obnoxious side eye, wordlessly bringing up a list of incidents where Steve did not, in fact, bring a shopping list.

This is right. Steve doesn't know how he's going to bullshit his way out of this whole "in love" thing but _this_ \- standing in front of the stove with Bucky, spraying whipped cream into his mouth whenever he asks, laughing when Steve misses by a centimeter and then there's a glob of whipped cream sliding down Bucky's face- _this_ is right.

\---

Carrying mugs of hot chocolate gingerly to the couch is a dangerous and impressive feat, but they make it without an incident. "I have your pre-present," Steve has to grin, this tradition is the best. The pre-present is basically the one present they allowed each other to open on Christmas Eve instead of on Christmas, and Steve had been bummed because they'd be missing it- But now they're not.

"Me too," Bucky laughs, "Actually, it's different from your original pre-present but I decided that could just be a regular present this year." He sips from the mug carefully, and it leaves the barest trace of whipped cream on his upper lip. Not that Steve is staring, no, his own hot chocolate is overly captivating. "But you have to go first." Steve nods in agreement, grabbing one slim package under the tree for Bucky; the wrapping paper has festive Grumpy Cat cat all over it, originally a gag gift of sorts from Natasha. Little does she know that Steve uses it all the time, for random reasons.

"Gee, I wonder what this is," Bucky slides careful fingers over the present, wider than his palm and half an inch thick, "A book?"

Steve just smiles.

"Hmmm. Yes, then- a notebook? A- sketch-"

"Just open it, asshole," laughs Steve. 

"Ooh, touchy," Bucky mocks Steve but gently tears the wrapping around the edges of the paper, exposing the soft black leather underneath. "I knew it," he casts Steve a knowing, triumphant look, "A sketchbook- Oh."

A smug grin, from Steve.

"Steve, it's beautiful," this is no indulging tone, this is genuine admiration in Bucky voice, fingers tracing the bold red star in a sea of black, background faintly patterned like a galaxy. 

"Yeah?"

"Fuck, yeah," Bucky's looking up from the sketchbook, up at Steve now, smiling that blinding smile, "I love it. C'mere-" A hug that Steve very much craves- needs- and Bucky is settling back into the cushions, just a tad closer than before. "When did you paint it?"

"Actually, Monday, that first day you were gone." Steve doesn't include the fact that he started not even an hour after dropping Bucky off at the airport, in a fit of sudden desparation- doesn't include the fact that he legitimately considered flying all the way to Miami just to give this to Bucky. Yeah, thank God he hadn't followed through with that. He probably would have done something even stupider from there on out.

"Almost don't wanna use it," admits Bucky, flipping the pages.

"You'd better use it, I didn't buy a sketchbook for nothing-"

"Don't tell me what to do," it's lighthearted and Bucky doesn't mean it, Steve knows that tonight, he will probably find Bucky sitting up in bed, drawing. Bucky's strokes are always precise and clean, something that Steve has always admired. Steve's lines are the opposite, light and imperfect for the first ten strokes until he finally gets the curve right, the slope of Bucky's shoulders, the edge of his jaw- "So, it's my turn," Bucky sing-songs, snapping Steve back to attention.

"Surprise me."

"I already did," but Bucky doesn't pull anything out, doesn't continue on, doesn't move his unwavering gaze. Steve feels his mouth go dry with the effort to speak, but luckily, Bucky continues. "Steve, I lied, okay, the Expo didn't get canceled." 

"What- _Bucky-_ "

"Stop," there's that soft smile, because Bucky has already anticipated what Steve will say, "I _know_. But it's my choice, and I got half a refund anyways. Isn't it my decision to make?"

He's got Steve there. "Yes, it is, but-" Steve doesn't get why he'd leave, why he'd give up the Expo he's been wanting to see for years-

"No- Steve. I realized-" says Bucky firmly, "I realized that I-"

"I wanted you to have a happy Christmas, doing what you love to do-" Steve can't help but butt in, astonished, and quite frankly, angered that Bucky actually gave that up- for what, exactly?

" _Steve._ " Steve's mouth shuts, there is no room for argument. "I realized that wasn't important to me, not if I was away- I know it's _weird,_ okay, but I couldn't do it, not without you-" Now the intensity leaves Bucky's eyes and he looks a bit tired now, because- Because he thinks Steve doesn't understand. "It's- fine, okay, I'm sorry I snapped at you, Steve, if I knew you'd rather me be at the expo I'd have-"

 _No_. Steve panics slightly, realizing that this is not what he wants Bucky to think, not at all- _no_ , he would never want Bucky away, he just wanted Bucky to enjoy himself and no matter how much he'd wanted Bucky home, he had never actually wanted Bucky to sacrifice it for him- 

The taste of chocolate sours in his mouth, this isn't what he'd wanted at all-

And Bucky looks down now, eyelashes downcast and Steve knows he's disappointed and his mind replays everything Bucky just said, wanting to make it right- _"I realized that wasn't important to me... I couldn't do it, not without-"_

"Um, I have to unpack," Bucky says quietly, starting to shift off the couch- Steve is stuck- _"-wasn't important to me, not if I was away-" If I was away from you._

_Oh._

Before Bucky can get off the couch, Steve's hand is on his arm, urgent because now he gets it, he really does, he gets it like how he understands why his favorite hot chocolate is Bucky's and why he couldn't survive three days with Bucky, and why just the feel of Bucky's wrist in his hand sends a bold current thrumming through him.

"Steve-"

Steve can't stop himself anymore, because now he _knows_. He thought he'd fallen before but it turns out he's still plummeting and it feels like he's never going to stop. "Did you mean it, Bucky? Not without me?" Bucky's startled eyes betray no hesitation, just slight confusion when he nods.

"Yeah, Steve, what-"

"Not without me? Like-" Yet Steve's already drawn Bucky in, just to touch their lips together. Once. " _-this?_ "

Bucky's eyes are wide, his fingers almost involuntarily clutching at Steve's sleeve, " _Steve-_ " They're not even a breath apart, Bucky's hair is brushing Steve's forehead and Steve is smiling now.

"Like this?" A kiss to the corner of Bucky's mouth, where that grin will quirk once Bucky breathes again, Steve knows.

He knows.

"Like this?" Not a kiss but a small nudge to his nose, a gentle tap and Bucky's hand has suddenly made its way to the dip of Steve's collarbone, just where sweater yields skin. Steve thinks he's on fire. Steve thinks he's never been more sure of anything in his life. 

"Like this?" A brush of lips against the soft shadow under Bucky's ear, where the jaw joins the neck and Steve knows Bucky's ticklish- Bucky inhales a shuddering breath and Steve is aware of Bucky's fingers tightening, pressing insistently into skin.

"Like-"

"No," Bucky's voice is back, scratchy the way Steve likes it, "You _fucker_ \- also like _this-_ "

The full heat of Bucky's mouth on Steve's, the complete weight of Bucky pushing Steve into the couch, the pull of Bucky's fingers in Steve's brutally short hair- Steve knows that he's never letting Bucky go. The sketchbook falls from the cushions with a dull thump but Steve doesn't worry- there's carpet and anyways- _"More room for us,"_ is the whisper into Steve's ear-

Bucky's pushing Steve back further, teeth flashing in a triumphant grin and Steve never wants to see Bucky wearing anything else. 

"So-" Steve's voice cracks, maybe because Bucky's making his way down his neck and so who can blame him for being a little unsteady? "So- you like me, huh?" _Finally finally finally finally_ , his heart beats.

There's a breathless laugh into the space between his throat and shoulder and Bucky is drawing himself up again, just to look down at Steve's face. "You're an idiot."

"Which doesn't matter," Steve's smirking, because now he's got his hands on Bucky's hips, "Right?"

"Right," Bucky agrees, of course he does, he's cupping Steve's face in his hands and leaning close. "You're just a stupid punk-"

"Jerk-" Just a slightest scratch of teeth and Bucky's fingers are tightening their grip again. 

"I love you." There is no prelude from Steve, no more bullshitting his way out, only bullshitting his way in, and Bucky just kisses him harder, stealing what's left of his breath before tugging at the hem of his sweater. "Looks like someone's impatient-" Steve's not complaining.

"I think I'm obligated, Steve, I've been waiting for _three fucking years_ -"

"Wow- three years-" There's a laugh bubbling beneath the surface, Steve can't believe it- but he can- but he wouldn't have this other way, wouldn't give up Bucky's swollen kisses _now_ , the thumb at the hollow of Steve's throat _now_ , wouldn't change a thing in the past for what he has _right this moment._

Steve supposes Bucky agrees because he says,"I love you too, but if you don't take your shirt off in the next three seconds, I'm gonna un-love you and that'd be a goddamn shame."

So, Steve has to oblige, curving a smile into Bucky's lips as he starts slipping off his sweater. "We can't have that, now can we."

Their mugs of hot chocolate, long since cooled, sit on the coffee table. Forgotten for now; there's that warmth blossoming in Steve's chest, the one he'd been looking for, not just caused by hot chocolate. 

\---

Later, past midnight even, they remember their hot chocolate and pop them in the microwave. Good as new, and though the whipped cream and candy cane bits have dissolved, Steve feels the same. They sit in near pitch darkness, mugs in hand and leaning against each other. Steve confesses that he spent the whole day trying to find hot chocolate like Bucky's, which doesn't make sense. 

But Bucky doesn't ridicule Steve, only pulls him for a sweet kiss and promises that he'll never have to look for hot chocolate again, and Steve knows none of this is an issue. 

**Author's Note:**

> HMU on Twitter!!! @capconspicuous  
> I actually have like.. one friend there. (<3 u boop)  
> If you liked reading this, check out the collection! (still a baby collection, look I have 15 days left until Christmas to finish 25 Christmas Stucky fics):  
> http://archiveofourown.org/collections/stuckmas


End file.
